Like Father
by rogueandkurt
Summary: In which Uther is young, Arthur is vain, and Merlin's completely traumatized. Oneshot. Bodyswapping crack. Arthur/Merlin.


Written for the kinkmeme prompt: _Uther and Arthur are body!swaped. Uther waking up IN BED with Merlin would be great, but Merlin waking up to the king's body trying snuggle him would be hilarious, too._

**Warnings:** Crack, slash, mentions of sex (though nothing at all explicit).

* * *

**Like Father...**

For Merlin, the best part about waking up in the morning was when he knew he could sleep in a bit longer. A contented smile as his head pressed back against the pillow and cool sheets pooled around his middle was the stuff of fond longing, carefully wrapped in the desirable package of having a few more blessedly peaceful minutes to himself. Of course, realising that he _wasn't_ by himself was good, too - a strong arm around his waist and the unmistakable feel of a head against his shoulder were always welcome in his book.

On this particular morning, he sighed, relaxing into the possessive hold around his midsection, though a sleepy frown creased his brow. The arm was a bit..._heavier_ than usual, and there was something off about the cheek resting against his chest - too much bone where there should have been fat, and a nose that felt sharp against his collarbone.

But it was the voice that really confused him, the sleepy mumble against his sternum deeper than it should have been.

He stirred drowsily, blinking his eyes open to look down at--

Uther.

He was in bed with _Uther_.

Merlin's brain promptly stopped working at that point, and it took him a good many minutes to get it started again. This lasted long enough for him to register a second, equally-horrifying fact.

He was _naked_ in bed with Uther.

Who was _also_ naked.

Merlin had never felt so awake in his life.

Frantically, he searched his memory for what possible cataclysm of events could have led to this terrifying dilemma, but nothing came to mind. He had been a _little_ drunk after the feast last night for Lord Emmory and Lady Georgianne, but surely not so much that he should have trouble distinguishing between the two Pendragons. He was certain he'd followed Arthur back to his rooms as usual, the two of them fumbling their way through a quick and messy tumble before passing out on the bed.

So how had he gone from falling asleep beside the crown prince to waking up next to the king himself? His eyes widened - what if his magic had done it? Had he somehow transported himself across the castle in his sleep? He thought of himself floating naked down the castle corridors and felt sick. Surely someone would have seen that?

Swallowing heavily, he wondered what the penalty was for accidentally landing himself in the king's bed. The stocks were too trivial for such a crime, surely. There was probably a special punishment, like being hung by his toenails in the dungeon, or having his eyes gouged out with hot pokers.

Uther shifted again, the bed sheet slipping down further on his hip, and Merlin decided he'd probably save them the trouble and gouge them out himself.

"_S'not time to get up yet_," Uther mumbled against his shoulder, his grip tightening around Merlin's waist as his nose brushed against his neck, and Merlin stopped breathing, horrified. Forget hot pokers - Uther had _cuddled_ him. He'd be burnt at the stake, for sure. The peasants would spit upon his ashes.

Frantically, he searched the room for some means of escape that wouldn't result in a premature case of regicide or the loss of his head - which he had grown quite fond of over the years, and didn't really cherish being parted from.

They were definitely still in Arthur's chambers, which just made matters all the more confusing. Had he summoned Uther, then, rather than the other way around? That was even worse, somehow. The idea that his magic could play such a cruel and unusual trick on him as bringing him the naked father of his boyfriend was one he didn't really want to dwell on, especially once he remembered that his magic usually only brought him things he wanted— and, yeah, there was _no way_ he was following that line of thought any further.

And for that matter, where the hell was Arthur?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming his frazzled nerves. He needed to get out of there. Perhaps if he slipped away before the king woke up, no one would even know what had happened.

Uther protested his movements, grumbling as he wiggled out from his hold. It seemed he was every bit as possessive as his son in bed and _dear god, he had_ not _just thought that!_

"Whuh?"

Startled by the noise, Merlin pulled away completely, the momentum sending him sprawling naked off the side of the bed. He stood up quickly, finding Uther awake and blinking sleepily at him.

"Your Highness," he said, trying to cover himself with one hand while holding the other one up defensively. "I can explain!"

He hoped he could, at least. Preferably before Arthur came back and found the two of them. Oh god, it'd be the stake for sure, and what an embarrassing way for people to find out about his magic! He'd go down forever in history as the sorcerer who accidentally spelled himself into a naked snuggle with King Uther.

The king frowned tiredly. "It's too early for this, Merlin," he complained in a rather petulant way, rolling over to bury himself in the pillows. "Come back to bed, you idiot."

There was a moment when everything seemed to freeze, Uther's whole body stiffening even as Merlin wondered when he and the king had gotten on first-name terms. Slowly, Uther turned back, frowning.

"...Merlin?" He seemed to be testing the name out, his frown deepening as he looked down at himself in confusion.

That's when things got very loud.

"_What in God's name happened to me?!_"

There followed a five minute shouting-fest wherein Uther pawed frantically at his face and body, loudly cursing everyone from Gaius to the scullery maid who swept the kitchen floors, and Merlin flip-flopped between abject terror at his impending execution and outright confusion at all of the strange and inventive threats the king was shouting at him, but the basic conclusion they reached was this: Uther was not Uther, but Arthur in Uther's body.

This had the bizarre inverse effect of making things both clearer and ten times more confusing.

Eventually, it was decided that the mystery was _not_ aided by their continued nakedness, and both men hurried to cover themselves, Arthur doing his best not to look down.

"Did _you_ do this?" he demanded, glaring in accusation as he shrugged into his dressing gown, and really, it was hard not to flinch under the familiar glower of the king.

"Oh, yes," Merlin shot back, crossing his arms. "I must have done, because it was such a treat for me to wake up naked next to _your father!_"

They both cringed, looking away.

"This is a dream," Arthur decided, pointing threateningly at Merlin, daring him to argue. "People don't switch bodies with their fathers in real life. I'll wake up and still be my young, ridiculously attractive self, and none of this will have happened. And _stop looking at me like I'm going to have you beheaded at any second!_"

It was quite unnerving to see Uther pouting so openly.

Merlin was about to suggest a trip to Gaius' chambers when a mass of shouts sounded from outside the door.

Things got a lot worse after that.

*

"Who did this?" Uther demanded, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at his councillors. Of course, since his robes were too big for his new body, this had the adverse effect of making him look rather ridiculous. No one dared to snicker in his presence, but it was a close thing.

After ten minutes of mass confusion, wherein the knights of Camelot feared their monarchy had finally given way to its inbreeding and gone collectively insane, the conclusion had been reached that both Pendragons had somehow switched bodies during the night.

"I fear that this can only be the work of _sorcery_," Gaius intoned solemnly, and even Merlin had to fight not to roll his eyes at the unnecessary conclusion because it certainly wasn't the work of minstrels.

Uther stiffened nonetheless, nodding his agreement. "Of course. A direct attack on the royal family. They're trying to destroy Camelot from within."

Arthur seemed less convinced.

"But...Why?" he asked, looking around confusedly. "What possible end is served by our switching places?"

Uther paused, the wind momentarily knocked from his sails, but he rallied quickly.

"Clearly, the sorcerer seeks to endanger the royal line by shortening the lifespan of my only heir," he decided, though the excuse sounded rather flimsy to Merlin. "I want the person responsible found and dealt with immediately."

He paused again, catching sight of himself in the shiny surface of the table. Merlin could tell that Uther was fighting an internal battle between his deep-rooted hatred of all things magical and his delight at having woken up twenty years younger.

Arthur, on the other hand, looked as if his world had ended. Clearly, old age was not something he'd aspired to.

"Have the guards search the castle," Uther commanded, though he seemed again distracted by his reflection, turning his new face this way and that to see himself from different angles. Unless Merlin was mistaken, he was eying his blonde hair with creative intent. One of the councillors cleared his throat, interrupting the king's imaginings just as he began thoughtfully considering the fabric of a nearby wall hanging. Jaw suspiciously tight, Uther glared at his audience. "Bring me the sorcerer. And send the palace tailors to my chambers immediately."

*

For all of his bluster about sorcerers, Uther kept himself busy over the next couple of days, having a whole new wardrobe tailored for himself in complementing Pendragon red and maroon. The tunics and breeches were much tighter-fitting than Arthur's normal clothes, and more than one maidservant had been taken to Gaius following a dreadful swoon down the stairs outside the throne room or while carrying heavy armfuls of laundry to the royal chambers.

He'd taken to long strolls through the castle, and had even begun to oversee training with the knights in Arthur's stead - for Arthur's own safety, of course - spending hours in the practice yards parrying and thrusting in his old chainmail which had been dug out of storage and fitted for just this occasion.

Conversely, Arthur took to sulking in his rooms, worrying over the identity of the sorcerer who had dared curse him so cruelly.

"Look at him out there," he grumbled jealously from the window, glaring down at his father. "He's favouring my right side. He'll make the muscles all uneven - it'll take _weeks_ to get them back to normal! And is that _really_ what my hair looks like from the back? Why didn't anyone _say_ anything?"

Merlin struggled to contain his smirk. "Perhaps we could focus on more important matters?"

The prince nodded, turning around to face him. "Right. What are you doing to fix this?"

"Er..." Between helping Gaius with the sudden rash of swooning women and consoling Arthur in his grief at having hit middle age at only twenty-one years, he'd actually had very little time to investigate the matter. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Arthur's eyebrows snapped together, his father's glare perfected at last. "There must be _something_ you can be doing! Spells or potions or ritualistic sacrifices! What good is it sleeping with a sorcerer if he can't even make himself useful?"

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, as had become his habit over the last couple of days. "Are you _sure_ you didn't do this?"

Merlin sighed. "_Yes_, Arthur, I'm _sure_."

Arthur "hmm'd," unconvinced. He turned to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. "Well, I'm certain that the incompetent sorcerer responsible - _whoever he is_ - will do the right thing and reverse it."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin stoked the fire with a little more force than necessary.

"It's really good to see you handling your suffering in a heroic and dignified manner," he muttered.

Arthur ignored him, his focus back on the knight's practice. He scoffed, looking on as Uther wiped his brow with a courtier's handkerchief, returning it to the woman with a winning smile. "He has no shame at all! I saw no less than _three_ maidservants leaving his chambers this morning," he grumbled. "If _I_ can't have sex, I don't see why _he_ should get to."

"Well, don't look at me," Merlin said, standing. "Seeing your father naked once was more than enough."

Arthur shuddered again at the memory.

"You don't understand what it's like. Everything hurts," he complained, easing himself into a chair. "I feel a million years old!"

"Surely, your father's not that out of practice," Merlin said reasonably. "He defeated the black knight, didn't he?"

"I have _wrinkles_!" Arthur shouted, pointing at his face as if that should trump everything. "That wasn't supposed to happen until I was... Never! It was _never_ supposed to happen!"

He stood again, pacing the floor. "The maids all run away from me like I'm going to exile them at a moment's notice, Morgana has not stopped rubbing this mess in my face, and I actually got _winded_ climbing the stairs in the east tower yesterday!"

Arthur folded his arms, glaring at Merlin, who was trying his best not to snicker.

"I'm glad you're so amused, _Mer_lin, because until this gets resolved, _you_ don't get to have sex, either."

The grin dropped from Merlin's face. "Well, that's just unfair."

*

In the end, Merlin confronted Lady Georgianne, who was quick to give herself up.

"I didn't mean for it to happen like this," she assured him, contrite. "I saw how Prince Arthur handled the village struck by famine last week, and how the king was reluctant to help. I only wanted him to have a bit of his son's kindness and understanding."

She admitted to dosing their cups at the banquet in her honour, her eyes brimming with unshed tears at having been caught.

"You won't tell, will you?" she pleaded, wringing her hands.

Merlin seriously considered hanging the threat of execution over her head in retribution for having been snuggled by a naked Uther, but his good side won out. He made her promise to leave quietly after divulging how to reverse the spell - which was actually rather easy to do, involving little more than getting Arthur to drink from one of Uther's cups while Merlin chanted their names backwards - and never return to Camelot.

And if all of her luggage somehow bewitched itself to start barking like a rabid dog whenever she approached it, well. The cuddling _had_ been rather traumatic.

*

Things returned to normal pretty quickly after that, the novelty of the Pendragons' unexpected return to their respective bodies fading from interest with the next big scandal. It was King Uther's turn to sulk as the number of maids eagerly waiting outside his chambers dwindled significantly.

Uther was extra snappish when he summoned Arthur to the throne room to discuss their change in situation, having already threatened one courtier with execution and another with a week in the stocks. It seemed he already mourned the loss of his newly-tailored wardrobe, and the chambermaids had had to be extra careful not to raise a fuss when sneaking the clothes into storage.

"The sorcerer has obviously changed us back to throw us off his trail," he decided after a time, ordering the knights to renew their efforts, though everyone could tell his heart wasn't really in it. On a whim, he declared another feast to commemorate Lord Emmory's sudden and unexpected departure following word of a vegetable crisis in his lands.

Arthur had hummed and nodded in all the right places during the speech, his face a mask of seriousness that was too ridiculous to be real, even as he eyed Merlin with a look that could only be described as smouldering. He'd departed from the throne room at the earliest possible convenience, dragging Merlin to his chambers and pinning him to the wall, intent on proving his virility. As Arthur bit at his throat and muttered hoarse promises, Merlin predicted that they would both be spending much of the next few days naked. Not that he was complaining.

He collapsed back onto the bed following the fourth round of age-affirming sex - a record, even for them - breathless, as Arthur wrapped an arm around him, even clingier than usual.

"Glad to be back to normal then?" he ventured - their first bit of actual conversation outside of mumbled curses and strangled cries since Arthur had slammed the door shut.

Arthur nuzzled his neck. "Obviously. I've decided on a course of action. We must take precautions to prevent this nightmare from ever happening again."

"What? You mean like getting your father to stop inviting every sorcerer in the kingdom to dinner?" Merlin mumbled sleepily.

"No," Arthur scoffed, tilting his head to look up at him. "I mean like _you_ starting work on an anti-aging potion immediately."

Merlin blinked incredulously. "What? You can't really expect me to--"

"_Wrinkles_, Merlin!" Arthur intoned ominously, laying his head back down. "I expect weekly updates on your progress. If this experience has taught me anything, it's that a kingdom can't run properly with a king who's _old_. And don't get too comfortable, because we're going again as soon as you're able."

Merlin sighed - he supposed there were worse ways of starting his career as Court Sorcerer. And, if it meant his sex life would continue on this tantalizing uphill slope, he decided he could spare a few hours for the cause.

Besides, if it meant never having to compare Arthur's aging body to his father's--

...Perhaps he'd start on a memory modification charm first.

The End.


End file.
